1 step forward 2 steps back

I married David in my early 40’s. At that point in my life I assumed I would not marry and I was okay with that. I had lost both of my parents and didn’t have any close family nearby. I worked and socialized with friends–nothing earth shattering there. A couple of my closest friends, Kathy and Linda were the ones I did the most with. They always included me (one or the other) on holidays, I would see movies with Kathy and often met Linda and her brother on Saturday mornings for breakfast.

Last week I went out with my realtor to check out a few properties. (I started looking online right after David’s death.) While I don’t HAVE to move it’s the smart thing to do. It felt like a step in the right direction to take control of the idea of moving and confront it head on.

This morning I met Linda and her brother for breakfast and later saw a moving with Kathy. Breakfast was tasty and the movie Eddie the Eagle was wonderful.

That’s where my title came from. I cried last week house hunting but they were meaningful tears. Early this evening I cried because it felt like my life with David had never existed. I had gone back to the things I did before I knew him and it was no big deal to my friends. I don’t mean any disrespect to the others, I love them. I don’t want it to be easy to not miss David.

My heart ached from the pain of not being with my dear husband. He is always in my heart and the fact that his physical self isn’t with me made hurt more.

I hate being a widow.

Getting sick…

So I experienced one of my greatest fears a week ago. I was sick.  It happens to everyone, and since I work with children my exposure is greater than most. I woke up at about 2:00 AM and spent the next several hours racing to the bathroom. I posted my absence at work, sent a text to my boss, and then…waited. There was no one to check on me, no one to fuss over me, no one even to bring me a glass of water. I texted a couple of friends asking them to send a response my way every couple of hours to be certain I didn’t get dehydrated, and that was it. I spent two days home on the couch with one quick trip to the store to buy a few items of food I would be able to keep down.

I survived, but wasn’t happy about it. After all it’s part of the vows: in sickness and in health…where was David for the sickness part? He’d been there before. Thanks to David’s vigilance and care I survived a life threatening illness and made it through months of recuperation. This time I was alone and this was a minor illness in comparison!

Don’t get me wrong. I hate being fussed over especially when I’m sick, but here’s the worry: what happens when I can’t get through it alone? Who do I turn to when the person I counted on is no longer there. Sure you can call friends and neighbors, but how do you repay the kindness? How do you not feel like an obligation or worry that your name and number appears and they cringe?

I hate being a widow!



All I Want for Christmas is You!

Another holiday, another chance to miss you. I made it through Thanksgiving, I made it through David’s birthday, and now I’ve made it through Christmas. David asked me to marry him on Christmas, so it was rough, really rough facing this holiday without him. I couldn’t watch It’s a Wonderful Life (my favorite Christmas movie) because he proposed right after we watched it. I couldn’t watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas (his favorite movie) because it reminds me so much of David.

As I’ve been trying to do, I met Christmas head on and took control of things as much as I could. I flew to NC to spend Christmas with my stepsons. I talked with my therapist about various concerns and thought I was prepared. The one thing I didn’t prepare for was how much being with the boys would remind me of their dad. I cried and cried all alone in my room on Christmas night. It was a long, hard night. Being with the kids made me feel closer to David, but made my heart ache even more. It’s an ache that is always present. Sometimes it’s well hidden but I always miss my husband.

Up next, New Years and my birthday! Hang on it’s going to get crazy.

I hate being a widow!

Unhappy Birthday

Thursday was David’s birthday. Like many men he always said his birthday wasn’t important to him. I always said it was very important to me, and I always tried to make him feel extra special. This was to have been a “milestone” and I had started planning a year ago. Then August came and all my plans changed. This was indeed a milestone, but in a much different way. How do you honor someone when they aren’t there?

I thought about staying in bed and calling in sick to work. Instead I did what I would have done had David been here with me. I took extra care dressing and doing my makeup. I wore a blouse he always loved. I put a smile on my face and did my best to wear it most of the day. For dinner that night I had one of his favorite meals–fried catfish, and I toasted him with an extra strong cocktail. Even though he was never a sweet lover I had cake and ice cream, after all that’s what you do on a birthday. I texted the kids to remind them of the day. My steps are a post for another day. I did everything I could to make this a day that in some way honored David, but in the end, it was still an unhappy birthday.

I hate being a widow!

The First Holiday

Thanksgiving has come and gone, for that I am thankful. I did all the right things–roasted a turkey, spent the day with friends, watched football, but I was miserable. I cried in the morning before my friends arrived. I choked up at dinner when I was trying to carve the turkey. I sobbed in the evening when I was all alone.

Thanksgiving was always special to us. It was the first holiday David and I spent together. It was the holiday the kids usually spent with us. I got to cook (which I love.) David got to watch football (his Cowboys always play on Thanksgiving.)

I tried to take control of Thanksgiving by hosting. That helped. Everything in my life seems so beyond my control right now so even a little pretend control was welcome.

I miss David everyday. These 4 long days were just reminders of how alone I am now.  Everywhere I look I see the empty space where David belongs. It’s not right that he isn’t here with me. I know I have things I should be thankful for, but right now all I can think of is that one thing that I wish I had–my husband.

I hate being a widow.

The Lasts

This weekend I found myself thinking over and over all of the lasts I had with David..Our last conversation, the last time we were together, the last time he left our home. Each “last” tugs at my heart. You never know that it will be the last time. I’ve dealt with long drawn out illnesses and deaths. I’ve dealt with sudden. It’s not as though one is easier than the other, but when death is unexpected there is so much left undone. There are so many “what ifs.” Would one word have made a difference? Probably not, but I’ll never know.

Every last is bittersweet.

This is not a very good post. I should write more details, but right now this is all I have.


Talking Helps

I had my third session with my grief counselor, and I have to say talking really does help. It’s an hour where I can say what I’m feeling with no fear of being judged. It is also helping me to put into perspective why the little irritations are bothering me so much.

She is helping me to identify the people in my life who I can depend on and to let go of my disappointment in the ones who I can’t. Also just because those “disappointments” may not be the support I had hoped they would be doesn’t mean I have to exclude them from my life, I just have to recognize the role they will play.

It’s another loss, but that’s life…and…death.

I hate being a widow!

I hate being a widow

I loved being a wife. I was good at it. I hate being a widow! David died early in August. It’s been a little over 3 months and while I’m strong, I’m functioning in day to day life, I HATE IT!

I’m sad. I’m angry. I did not want to join this club. (I don’t think anyone does.) I’m too young to be a widow–51. I was only a wife for a short time–8 years. It’s not fair. I don’t like the new normal.

Will I survive? I think so. How will I survive? I’m not sure. I’m hoping writing about it will help.